Blackness
by CopraMeow
Summary: AU Hitman. Hidan's ritual in the urban jungle. /oneshot? r&r
1. Chapter 1

/watch?v=ymosNJRlunA

you'll understand as you read this...

* * *

˝I try forget but you.. I try I try ˝- he sang in a slow voice. ˝Touch me...slowly...take me back.˝- He flipped the gun - ˝hurt me slowly...take me back˝- The gun was flipped back again. The shiny surface of the metal reflecting his face. As the black and white faded he was reminded just why he did this.

Why he killed.

Why he died.

With each stroke of the fine cloth against the cold steel he inhaled it, the aftermath of gunpowder and the faint smell of blood. Licked his lips as he savored the memory. Once you kill, you never forget that look. The fade of the light in someone's eyes. The way the color in the irises washes out and vanishes into nothing. The body looses its control, contorts and falls to the ground, no reflexes no last hope. It just stops working. The flesh dies slowly at first, the blood leaving it in streams of crimson rivers, like a bloody halo. The warmth leaves fast, he held a dying man's hand once, it was so hot, burning but at one moment it cooled as fast as blowing out a candle light, the skin whitening and cooling as ice. Under his touch the skin turned to paper, all the elasticity gone with the blood. He'd feel it all, every single exhale of the body, the last twitches.

Because he'd die too.

His skin would prickle as the blackness settled over it. As would his eyes close he'd sigh in ecstasy. Dying was the highest form of high you'd get. Forget coke and meth, not even the fucking 'shrooms gave you this feeling of levitating above the ground, feeling truly immortal as you died.

The sounds of the streets outside were a cacophony of car honks, people chatting on the streets, beggars wailing for cash, hookers offering an easy night. The thundering of a never sleeping city. He smiled to himself. It was easy to loose your trace here, blend in with the urban jungle and enjoy life. Enjoy killing.

Beside him the screen of his laptop flickered. A new red flag popped into his inbox. A new email.

On his business email address.

Lazily he opened it and scanned the contents. A female this time, husband abusing yada yada will offer cash, clean death. He smiled again. His god would punish such sinners and he was a tool of the divine. He glanced at the wall in front of him. A circle was painted cleanly with his blood, a triangle pointing down and a black and red scythe mounted under it. ˝Praise Jashin...˝- he muttered.

A quick check on both of his Glocks, a few extra refills, a dagger in his right boot and a smaller hunting knife in his left. He never wore bulletproof vests, why would he when he'd die anyways? Just a light leather jacket and his necklace in place. The same symbol painted on the wall.

He didn't drink, nor smoke. That was something sinners did and he was a priest. A tool of his God ready to do His work.

Since the first time he'd ever done it, he was never afraid, never suspecting his faith.

Jashin would pull him back from the blackness each time he died and took a sinner with him.

It didn't matter which or what the sinner was, as long as Jashin would have chosen him, he'd kill and relive the ecstasy of dying, serving Jashin. The pull of darkness as the wave passed and the cold came.

He walked the short distance towards the meeting spot. The woman was already there, a small paper bag in her perfectly manicured hand. She was a sinner as well. He could see it and Jashin would soon too, he'd be back for her.

A smile from him, a frightened look from her, the cash exchanged with the photo of the husband.

He was alone again with the will of his God and a Glock ready to fire . Hidan sniffed the air, the same stench of the city filled his nose as it did yesterday. A city of sin.

He preferred walking and it wasn't a big distance to find this motherfucker. He was a sinner through and through, using the women of the night as he pleased and then he'd come back to his wife, fuck her and hit her. Hidan smiled again. A great sinner this man was. He found him in one of the brothels, in a room of the far east corner. Moldy spots on the wallpaper looked like stars in the small space where only a bed was. With his sinner on top of a woman, fucking his way through. Hidan nestlled in the crook of the door frame and watched. Waited.

He didn't get hard at the sight, he riled in the sin they made, fueled his prayers towards Jashin. The moans that filled the small, rotten room where haleluja's too him, calling him to end it. Purify their shitty little souls.

With a grunt the man finished, blowing his load inside the hooker and sighing. The bed creaked under his weight as he got off, pants still around his ankles.

˝The fuck are you ? Fucking pervert staring at me˝- His eyes narrowed into nasty small points of hate. Hidan smiled and took his Glock out. Then the small knife he had in his left boot and approached.

˝You're a nasty fucking sinner, you know that? He will love your soul. He will fucking purify you˝

˝A religious fuck. Motherfucker˝- The hooker yelped at the sight of the weapons and half naked ran through the door. No money was worth getting shot or killed. She'd earn it back in an hour anyways. Hidan frowned at her. Another sinner.

˝Get on your knees so I can do my job˝

˝My wife, that's right. She must have hired you. That nasty piece of shit˝- The man spat on the floor with a grimace ˝Should have beaten her senseles, that would have taught her˝

˝I'll do her too...˝- Hidan said with a smile. He was cold and calm. Ready to finish his ritual. The man stared at him.

˝Fucking weird ass hitman˝- Hidan smiled.

˝I'm a priest actually˝- And he shot him in the left arm, just above the joint where his shoulder and arm met. The man fell down in pain. Hot , red blood soaked his shirt. He didn't even bother undressing himself. Sinner.

Hidan approached him and nicked his palm. Smeared their bloods together. Licked the knife clean. The man watched him with crazy eyes. Hidan sighed contently. Soon it would be done. The fine prickling sensation in his skin returned. The white skin turned black, spots of white remaining as he turned into the Reaper himself.

He laughed suddenly and used the knife to cut his palm open. The blood swelled, droplets falling onto the dirty floor. He moved in a circle, moved diagonally and finally stopped. Hi eyes shone in their purple glow, it was as if something illuminated him from the inside. His face was a picture of a skull and he turned the Glock to his temple smiling. ˝Praise Jashin˝- and pulled the trigger.

He felt it.

As the bullet pierced the skin, the cartilage and the bone, moved through the soft tissue of his brain and exited wildly on the other side, ripping his skull into pieces. His body tumbled down into the drawn symbol.

The man had fallen as well. An identical hole in his head.

Hidan felt the adrenaline pumping as his life abandoned him, cooling him. He saw his blood and smiled. He was already flying, higher and higher, almost reaching Jashin himself. He saw purple spots dancing in front of his eyes and oxygen became poison. Thick and oily blackness was pulling him towards its depth.

 _Praise Jashin.._ he thought as the blackness enveloped him entirely.

* * *

a/n : not sure where I was going with this tbh...


	2. Chapter 2

Waking to the smell of coffee and dust Hidan sighed contently. He had delivered another sinner to his God. His limbs felt stiff from lying on the hard floor. Jashin would always take care of him, bring him back to his place until he woke to do his bidding once again.

˝Cheap as always..˝-A grumble was heard to his left. Opening his eyes he saw the figure of a tall man, dressed in a dark suit throwing his envelope. Money spilled from it's contents , his payment for the kill. Trinkets mortals used to live. Shaggy hair covered a pair of green eyes.

˝I'm a priest doing Gods work...˝- Hidan said getting was still bloody, part of his face covered with crusted blood. The mortal wound on his head healed completely.

˝That uses high class Glocks˝- Hidan shrugged at the reply. ˝Charge more asshole˝

˝It's enough, besides you leech of me˝

˝Oh? So this is nothing?˝- The man lifted his shirt to a gauze covered torso. ˝79 stitches˝

Hidan snorted and poured himself coffee that the other man made. ˝I believe that stitchwork is familiar to me fuckface..oh wait you can't fuck her right? She's probably scared of your mug˝- Hidan snickered.

˝He'll do what she's paid to...at least I can go to her˝- the man finished. Green eyes bore into Hidan.

˝Whatever Kakuzu˝- the Jashinist scoffed. He didn't need her anyways. He wasa priest of Jashin and the lord was giving him strenght and life, no ordinary surgeon would help him if the ritual went wrong. No, it never did. Jashin always gave him life. Life for a soulf of the corrupted, the evil.

˝I'm taking my share and seeing you later, there's a job downtown. Big money.˝

˝Your share,what a joke. Piss of scarecrow˝- Kakuzu threw him a murderous look but went anways. There was no gain in fighting the hitmam priest, no money to be made. He could only loose on bullets he'd have to spare for the idiot.

The door shut with a simple click. Hidan didn't use a safety system, no alarms and all that shit, he was immortal after all. Settled in his chair he closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. He was still high from the revival and needed to ground himself.

The world was spinning faster, street lights mixing with the buzz of the city. A rush of humane noise filled his ears. He scoffed. What he needed was a temple or at least somewhere quiet. Mediation brought him closer to Jashin and raised the vibrations during his ritual. It made his blood rush, speed up likea humming bird's wings frantically flapping until the last drop fell and then there would be a blessed silence.

With his eyes still closed he imagined the last temple hevisited and the shitty onsen in the back. How could he relax when he'd been oggled so many times? All the women were sinful, watching his body like it was food for them to had no time for earthly pleasures. Only the esctasy given by Jashin.

Hidan stayed in his position for hours. Feeling his breath enter and leave his body. A rosary hung from his neck. The weight pulled him always to the present, never letting him wander off in his meditation.

Instead of a cross, the symbol of Jashin swung with his body movements. A triangle with one end facing down enclosed in a circle. He recieved it at his innitiation.

Hunger clawed in his belly and he raised his body stretching. There was a black shirt next to the couch, sniffing it he slipped it on along with some boots. He knew already that his fridge was empty as most peoples' souls so he headed out, a wad of cash in one pocket and his glock in the waist of his pants.

He'd find food downtown..

* * *

a short bit to raise attention..


End file.
